


A Kiss With A Fist (Is Better Than None)

by ABCharlie



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove Lives, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Touch-Starved, and deserves to feel safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABCharlie/pseuds/ABCharlie
Summary: It's been two weeks since Billy Hargrove returned from the death and he just wants to feel alive.





	A Kiss With A Fist (Is Better Than None)

It had been two weeks since Billy Hargrove returned from the death. Two weeks since El got her powers back and with them the connection she'd had with Billy right before he had died. Two weeks since she found him unconscious in the middle of a deserted Russian lab just outside of Hawkins.

The Russians had captured him and patched him up in the hope that he would be valuable. Valuable enough that whoever they were planning to hand him over to would take mercy on them and wouldn't kill them as punishment for the disastrous events that had gone down at the mall. Though they had realised soon enough that Billy, who hadn't stopped thrashing around, spitting and screaming in the brief moments he was conscious, wasn't going to be enough to save their asses. So the Russians had fled and left him behind.

So, it had been two weeks since Joyce took him in. He'd even gotten his own room where he could hide out and avoid the Byers and El if he didn't feel up to seeing other people. Though they were the ones who seemed to avoid him mostly. Everybody had been so careful around him. Dancing around him, treating him like he was brittle. He had tried to get under their skin at first, trying to get a reaction out of them, but nobody would ever even argue with him. Joyce just looked at him with big sad eyes, as did El. He couldn't even blame them, they were still consumed by grief and every time they looked at him they were reminded of the fact that it was him who had come back from the death. Him and not Hopper. Jonathan and Will didn't even meet his eyes most of the time. He might as well have been a ghost.

By the third day of being ignored he had started to wonder if he actually was a ghost. So he had punched a hole in the wall. They had all come running in because of the noise, Jonathan had hovered awkwardly by the door while Joyce had muttered something and shot him a pitying look. Will and El had both left and returned a couple minutes later, El with a pack of frozen peas in a towel for his hand and Will with a framed drawing of his to hang and cover the hole. He had felt like he could breathe a little easier after that.

But it was still tough. The truth was, he felt so fucking lonely. The truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt real, the last time someone had touched him.

Even before he had died, the only times he was ever touched, was by his fathers fists or by the roaming hands of willing girls. Sometimes he pretended they cared about him. That his dad truly wanted the best for him, that he wasn't trying to beat him into someone who wasn't him. That those girls truly cared for him, that they weren't trying to fix him to boost their own self esteem, to be the one who could gloat about finally having tamed the big bad Billy Hargrove. All the pretending, it did nothing to stop the itchy feeling under his skin, the yearning. But at least he could pretend. It wasn't like he could pick up some random girl right now, not having yet figured out how to break it to Hawkins that he hadn't actually died in the fire that burned down the mall.

But maybe he would finally be able to scratch that itch later that evening, because it was friday and the Byers were visiting Hawkins for the weekend, for the first time since he had joined them. He was going to see Max again. And Harrington, since he so graciously offered to host the party at his house, where they could freely talk about all the batshit crazy they all had gone through without some unasuming parents of any of the other kids listening in.

From the window in his room he could see that Joyce had finished packing the car so he quickly grabbed his bag and sprinted outside. "Beat it Byers!" he screamed in the general direction of the house while running up to the passengers side of the car. Only to find out Jonathan had already claimed shotgun.

He at least had the decency to look apologetic while Billy climbed into the backseat while letting out a string of curses.

The only thing that had kept him sane during Will and El's squabbling and elbowing him in the ribs during the entirety of the car ride was smoking and the prospect of seeing Max again. They had called a few times since his return, the first time they had both cried. The next couple of times they had argued. Not like the way they would scream at eachother before but more amicable bickering, it had felt oddly reassuring. Billy had cried in his room after they had hung up every single time.

He almost cried again when they arrived at Harrington's place and the shitheads -or at least the ones that weren't immediatly sucking face with El- told him Max wasn't going to make it tonight. That kid Lucas explained that Susan and Neil had planned a trip out of town and they had dragged her along. Leave it up to Neil to ruin Billy's life without even realising it. Luckily they would return the next morning.

The kids were very happy to be reunited with Will and El. Billy felt a little lost in the hassle, it stung a little that his family wasn't there to welcome him.

He momentarily forget about his disappointment though, because Steve Harrington walked from the kitchen into the living room carrying a giant casserole. Billy hesitated as Steve looked at him uncertainly but then they both started walking, coming to a halt in front of eachother.

"Hargrove," Steve said, barely above a breath.

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants," Billy said, aiming for nonchalant, the way Steve had said it a lifetime ago. It came out strangled.

Steve let out a surprised laugh and something budded in Billy's chest. Steve clapped him on his shoulder with his oven mitt, still warm from holding the casserole. He said: "Man, it's good to have you back." And Billy felt it blossom. 

* * *

The evening passed fairly quickly, the kids had played a nerdy boardgame while Joyce had smoked and Jonathan and Nancy had kept stealing kisses. Steve and Billy had ended up talking on the sofa together. Not quite touching. But almost.

Soon it was time for the kids to go home, Jonathan was going to drop them off and was planning to go home with Nancy afterwards. Before they left, Will and El begged Joyce to let them sleep over at the Wheeler's too. Eventually she caved.

After they had all left, she turned to Billy and steve and told them she needed some time alone so she was going to drive up to Hopper's old cabin and stay the night there, she still had a spare key.

And that left Billy.

Time passed slowly and a thick silence fell over them both. Billy felt suffocated by the quiet in a way he hadn't since he punched the hole in the wall. The house was simply too big for the two of them to fill. Surrounded by the dirty dishes and candywrappers of the party it became all the more clear. Billy felt himself disappearing again.

"So..." Steve started.

"Hit me," Billy interrupted him.

Steve just looked at him quizzicaly, like he had just made a joke he didn't understood the punchline to.

"I'm serious, Harrington. C'mon, hit me."

And now Harrington just looked confused.

"C'moooon! You want to, right? You must be wanting to, I beat you to pulp once, remember," Billy goaded him

Steve didn't react, not really acknowledging Billy beyond his stare.

And Billy had spent the last two weeks living like a ghost and he couldn't remember the last time somebody touched him and he couldn't remember the last time he felt alive and he couldn't remember the last time he felt-

"HIT ME!" he screamed as loud as he could, his eyes screwed shot.

"Billy." The use of his first name, uttered so softly took him by surprise and Billy felt himself unravel.

"Please, Harrington, I need to- Steve, I need-" he babbled and he could barely suppress a relieved sigh when he saw Steve adjusting his stance.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, it's alright," Steve mumbled while Billy saw him getting ready to launch.

He just closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The next moment he felt Steve crashing into him, his hands tangled in his hair and his mouth pressed into his and oh- They were kissing.

They were kissing and Billy clung to Steve with all he had and when Steve dared to pull back, Billy pulled him right back in.

They were kissing and Billy felt alive.

* * *

That night, when they were lying in bed naked and Steve was gently kissing Billy's neck and shoulders while hugging him from behind, Billy thought about the last time anyone had touched him like that, in such a gentle manner. He thought about his mom.

"What're you thinking 'bout?" Steve mumbled sleepily into his neck.

"I hit you once," Billy answered.

"I hit you back," Steve replied without missing a beat.

"I smashed a plate over your head."

"And now you're lying in my bed," Steve concluded and Billy couldn't see him but he could hear him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and the dialogue at the end is from a Florence + The Machine song with the same name.  
If there are mistakes you can always let me know, I always love reading what you thought of the fic, hope you enjoyed it!


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